Tracy Island's Uninvited Guest
by 16pennies
Summary: Scott wakes up one morning to run into an unexpected guest on Tracy Island. What unfolds could destroy International Rescue more effectively than the Hood could ever dream. {fun, playful fic with the Tracy's being their usual silly selves!}


**A/N** **:** A/N: Oh, look at that. I wrote another fic about unexpected cats! I'm beginning to think this might be a tradition.

I wrote this on a whim over a year ago for fun. I hope it makes you smile :)

 _Trigger warnings: Blood mention_

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All was calm on Tracy Island. Indeed, the soft breezes which rustled innocent palms did not betray any sense of disorder, nor did the even rhythm of the waves distress anyone who might hear it.

No, Tracy Island was quite the picture of serene calm as the sun gloriously rose in the sky, making the sea sparkle magnificently as it ascended. Even the occasionally troublesome birds were particularly quiet.

That is, until a rather bird-like squawk of alarm came from the house.

Scott Tracy, or at least a sleepier version of himself, had been making his way to the kitchen. As he was usually the first to rise, he had a habit of taking advantage of the empty kitchen before the rest of his family woke to disturb the peace. However, on this particular morning, his progress had been unknowingly—and quite rudely—blocked by the latest addition to Tracy Island.

An addition that was most unwelcome, thought Scott as he stumbled backwards and attempted to activate his exhausted reflexes. Barely saving himself from unceremoniously crashing to the floor, Scott recovered his balance and set about examining this thing which had so cruelly interrupted his breakfast.

It was the shade of burnt caramel, and very fluffy.

Scott's brow creased in confusion.

It was a cat.

"DAD!"

The lethargic feline flinched at the sound of Scott's alarmed shout cracking the peaceful morning. It did not move, though, and instead only stretched itself across the floor with more determination.

"What is it, son?" Jeff Tracy flew to the side of his eldest, his posture and unkempt hair conveying his urgency. The cat squirmed at his entrance. Jeff stared.

"What's that?" he asked finally, his voice adopting the tone of leader.

"It's a cat, Dad." Scott answered simply.

"I can see that, Scott. What's it doing here?"

"Dunno. I've never seen it before."

Scott was saved by the frantic entrance of one of his brothers, and thus did not fall victim to his father's lecture about what exactly qualified as an emergency.

"What's goin' on?" Virgil stumbled forwards in a hastily donned smoking jacket and haphazardly tied cravat. "Is there an emergency?"

"Not unless you count uninvited cats as 'an emergency.'" Scott answered flippantly, stepping over said cat and into the kitchen to get to the coffee machine.

Ignoring his brother, Virgil turned to his father. "A cat?"

"Yes, Virgil, a cat." Jeff knelt down to study the thing in question, long ago having resigned himself to the fact that his sons had yet again robbed him of his sleep. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"

"Of course not!" Virgil held up his hands in innocence. "Why would I bring a cat to the island? Where would I even get one?"

"Might be one of Gordon's pranks," offered Scott who was now casually leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

"What about Gordon?" came John's voice. "What are we talking about? More importantly, why are we even awake?" To demonstrate his fatigue, John yawned. A blond lock of hair fell forward across his forehead. He had only been on the island for two days and was still adjusting.

"Scott got scared by a kitten." Virgil explained with only minimal humour as he strode past his brother and into the kitchen.

"Hey! I wasn't scared of that ball of fluff! And that is _not_ a kitten." Scott eyed the cat with a look of disdain before following Virgil to stop him from stealing all the coffee.

"Please tell me you're kidding," John begged. Jeff only sighed, stood from his spot on the floor (with more effort than he would care to admit) and went into the kitchen himself. John could only shake his head and follow after, taking care to step over the rather bored cat as he did so.

Mugs of steaming coffee were passed around as the oldest Tracy's discussed what to do about this unusual predicament.

"I'll get Alan to look at the bio-readings for the island. It can't have been here more than a few hours. You should all run security checks on your Thunderbirds. We were lucky it was something so innocent—next time, we might not be so lucky."

"Dad, we don't even know how it got here. We shouldn't jump to conclusions." Virgil responded reasonably.

"My money's still on Gordon," Scott mumbled as he raised his mug to his lips.

"But why would he bring a cat here? It's not even funny." John argued.

Scott shrugged. "Who knows what goes through that kid's head."

As if he had been waiting for the optimal moment, Gordon strode into the kitchen, looking just a bit too casual as he stretched his arms over his head and yawned dramatically.

"Morning, fellas. What's up?"

"You should know," Scott replied.

"Woah," Gordon took a step back. "What did I do?"

"Didn't you see the—wait a minute," John eyed his younger brother curiously. "You didn't see the cat?"

"Cat?" Gordon could barely hold back his laughter as he teased, "Are you feeling alright, John? Maybe you shouldn't spend so long up on Thunderbird Five." The effect of his index finger orbiting his ear in a "crazy!" gesture was lost on his family who had all sprinted in the direction of the door.

"It's gone!" Scott cried, looking in horror at the spot previously occupied by the mystery cat. For a fleeting moment, Scott thought he had imagined the whole thing. Maybe it was from the stress. He had been under an awful lot of pressure lately. Maybe he should let Alan go on rescues more often….

"It must be here somewhere. Come on—we have to find it."

Scott nodded at his father's thinly veiled orders and followed after him into the lounge, ridding his mind of the ridiculous thoughts.

"Guys, what are you going on about?" Gordon asked, worrying if the stress of constantly saving the world had finally made his family crack. But none answered and so Gordon obediently followed. They crept around the living room, silent and cautious, until Virgil cried,

"There!"

True to his word, the cat was strutting along the back of the sofa which sunk beneath the house to Thunderbird Three when necessary. Gordon could scarcely believe it. What was a cat, of all things, doing creeping around the headquarters of International Rescue? And looking so damn proud of itself, too.

"What the heck is _that_ doing here?"

"Scott thought you did it," John answered without missing a beat.

"Why would I want a cat? Please, have more faith in my pranking abilities. Besides," he turned to John. "You've only been here two days. I haven't left in over a week."

"Are you suggesting _I_ brought it here?" John sounded incredulous. "Gordon, I've been in _space_. What do you think I do up there—watch cats float by the window all day?" Gordon only shrugged.

"Boys, enough. We need to get this under control before that thing accidentally touches the wrong switch. The very future of International Rescue could be at stake."

John and Gordon immediately ceased their bickering, the prospect of their prized organization being taken down by a simple house pet shaming them into silence. Even Scott looked a little ashamed.

"Alright, Dad. What's the plan?"

At Virgil's question, Jeff Tracy's face hardened to the expression of command his sons were so used to seeing.

"Okay, boys," he began. "Here's what we're going to do: Gordon, I want you to go wake Brains and have him contact Alan. See if they can figure out where this thing came from. If we're dealing with a security breach, I want to know immediately. Is that understood?"

Gordon looked put out at the prospect of being assigned such a simple job, but obediently grumbled "Yes, sir." and headed toward the bedrooms.

"Good. Now Virgil, I need you to—"

"Hold it, Dad." Scott interrupted, lifting a finger to silence his father. But Scott didn't see the undignified glare this earned from Jeff. He was far too preoccupied watching the cat lift its paws to the discreet button hidden in the side of one of the couches.

At once, the portraits on the wall slid to reveal more casual images of the five Tracy sons. Elsewhere on the island, security mechanisms slid into place as part of Operation Cover-Up.

The cat continued to press the button, apparently dissatisfied with the lack of noticeable result. Meanwhile, the portraits frantically slid in indecision and a slight grinding noise began to creep into the lounge from beneath the island. Jeff feared he would have to ask Brains to repair it if the cat continued.

Fortunately, that embarrassment was saved by Scott, who cried "Hey! Stop that!" and lunged for the feline, who flinched in alarm and sprang from its spot on the floor before Scott could catch it.

The portraits slid to a halt, halfway through the transition so that each son's International Rescue hat was visible below his elegantly posing torso. The system was sufficiently jammed. Jeff's heart sank with the knowledge that his marvelous organization was being efficiently dismantled by a house pet.

A house pet which was currently engaged in battle with his eldest son.

The cat hissed angrily as Scott struggled to securely grab it, and it slashed his forearm with its claws before bounding away. Scott cried out in pain and held his arm close as he sat on the floor and nursed his wound.

"Dad!" he moaned in anguish. "It scratched me!"

"Yes, son, I can see that." Jeff barked, totally ignoring Scott on the floor and instead hurrying to his desk where the cat had fled. "Virgil, John—get over here." Jeff waved in the direction of his desk and his sons obediently followed.

"Now, I'm going to try and scare it out of there, and I want you two to catch it. Understood?"

John and Virgil nodded and assembled themselves in front of the sofa, ready to capture the rogue feline.

"Okay, Dad."

"We're ready."

Jeff nodded in acknowledgement and crept around his desk from where he could command the entirety of International Rescue He could see the cat examining the various controls and rubbing its fluffy head along the drawers, totally oblivious to the power it had, should it chose to push too hard against any particular lever or switch. Bending lower on his knees, Jeff reached out to the unsuspecting cat.

"NOW!" he cried, and threw himself at the mass of pale hair which was already sailing over the desk and out of Jeff's reach. Mr. Tracy landed on the floor with a groan in the most undignified and uncomfortable manner.

Vaguely, he heard a feline's wail immediately followed by the startled shouts of John and Virgil. It seemed that as the cat was leaping away from Jeff's grasp, it had inadvertently pressed the button which activated transport to Thunderbird Three and the two Tracy boys were now sinking into the bowels of the island against their will.

Alarmed, Jeff hoisted himself up and leaned across the desk to peer down the hole through which two of his sons were rapidly descending. He could hear their cries of confusion and took comfort in the fact that neither of them had fallen as the ground was quite literally pulled out from under them.

Jeff barely slumped against the desktop when a voice made him look to his fourth son beside a very confused Brains in the lounge.

"M-Mr. Tracy, sir?"

"Dad? Is everything okay?"

Jeff stood, trying to reclaim his dignity, but neither Gordon nor Brains were focused on him any longer.

"Careful, Gordon. That thin has sharp claws." Scott warned from the floor where he was still examining the bleeding slivers on his forearm. Gordon merely waved away his oldest brother's words and cautiously approached the cat which was now pawing at the glass windows. He silently crept nearer, arms outstretched.

With the practiced grace of a swimmer, Gordon lunged and captured the protesting cat with a relentless grip around its fluffy middle. Immediately, both man and cat began to squirm and shout in a fierce battle of claws.

"What on Earth is going on here?"

At the sound of the sweet voice, he cat ceased its violent movements and turned to look. Gordon did the same.

"Gordon, what are you doing?"

"Tin-Tin?" It was Scott who spoke first.

"Yes, Scott?" Tin-Tin laughed charmingly and crossed the lounge to where Gordon sat y the window with the now pacified cat in his lap. "I see you've met Jack, then." Reaching down, she easily pulled the cat into her arms and ruffled Gordon's already messy hair.

"Jack?" Jeff looked dumbfounded. "That's _your_ cat?" It seemed impossible that anything so destructive could have anything to do with such a serene and gentle woman.

"No, Mr. Tracy," Tin-Tin answered cheerfully as she stroked the cat's chin and it squirmed delightfully in her hold. "This cat belongs to Penny. She asked me to look after him while she's on assignment in France."

The boys (including a very disgruntled John and Virgil who had managed to deactivate the launch sequence and safely return to the lounge) looked at Tin-Tin with an expression of disbelief and horror.

"Tin-Tin," began Jeff, trying to affect an air of polite reprimand. "I wish to be informed of these things in the future." He tugged at his dressing gown awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable to be unhappy with Tin-Tin in any way.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Tracy, of course," Tin-Tin didn't remove her eyes from the cat— _Jack_ —as she replied easily, "I was going to tell you this morning to make sure it was alright, but it looks like Jack escaped my room—didn't you, you poor thing. You must be hungry. Come on, let's go get you some breakfast."

With that, Tin-Tin turned and strode toward the kitchen where the crisis had begun only a short while earlier. She continued to speak sweet nonsense to the cat who squirmed happily in her embrace as she left the room, leaving the withered egos of five grown men in its wake.

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 **A/N:** Let me know what you thought in a review!

I also take prompts/requests. You can find a list of fandoms on my profile and tumblr: 16-pennies dot tumblr dot com


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